Forgetting the Past: An Unusual Encounter

"Hey! Wake up! It’s already past eight! Do you want to be late on your first day of high school?"
A voice rang through my half-asleep mind, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

"I packed your lunch, so don’t forget to take it. And Rumi’s still sleeping—wake her up and drop her off at kindergarten on your way to school. I’m heading to the office now!"
The door shut with a click. Silence.

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. So today’s the day, huh? The day my old, crappy life finally ends... and a new one begins.

It was a beautiful morning. The birds were chirping, and the golden rays of the sun streamed through my window, warm and inviting—almost as if they were tempting me to stay in bed a little longer. But no. Strengthening my resolve, I forced myself up. I couldn’t afford to be late on my first day.

Just as I was about to shake off my drowsiness, a faint, muffled sound reached my ears. Crying?

I rushed downstairs, already guessing the culprit. Rumi must have woken up and felt lonely without her loving, caring, handsome — okay, scratch that— her dependable older brother.

Reaching her room, I pushed open the door.

There she was, curled up on her bed, tears streaming down her little face. The moment she saw me, she jumped up and ran straight into my arms, clutching my shirt tightly.

I knelt down, wrapping my arms around her in an attempt to comfort her. Gently rubbing her back, I asked, "What happened? Did the ghost in the almirah come to scare you again?"

PS. ...Wrong move.

Her small frame trembled, and suddenly, her crying got louder. Crap. Maybe I’m not the best at stopping a kid from crying.

Through her sniffles, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oni-cwan... I saw Mommy leaving with Daddy... without us."

I froze. Dad...

The word itself carried a weight heavier than I could bear. He was gone. A car accident had taken him from us, leaving behind nothing but shattered pieces of our family. Rumi, too young to understand, was the most affected. That day had left a scar on her heart—one that no child should have to bear.

And Mom... She didn’t leave us. She had to work. She had no choice but to step up and provide for us.

I sighed, holding Rumi a little tighter.

"It’s okay," I murmured. "Mom’s not leaving us. She just has to work really hard for a while. But I’m here, okay? I’ll always be here."
She sniffled, her grip on me loosening just a little.

Maybe... just maybe, I could be strong enough for both of us. 
But despite the weight of sudden sadness, I couldn't let Rumi see her older brother cry. That wasn’t an option.

So, instead of breaking down, I did what any responsible big brother would do.
I attacked.

With a mischievous grin, I tickled her sides. "No more tears! The mighty Rumi shall laugh instead!"
She squealed in protest, trying to wiggle away, but within seconds, her sniffles turned into giggles. Victory.

Scooping her up onto my shoulders, I carried her to the bathroom. "Alright, little gremlin, time to freshen up!"

After brushing, we took a quick bath and got dressed. But as we stood by the door, ready to leave, Rumi hesitated. She clung to my sleeve, her usual spark missing. "I don’t wanna go to kindergarten today..."

I sighed. I understood. She was still sad, still lost in her little world of confusion. But keeping her home wouldn’t help. The longer she stayed, the more her thoughts would spiral.

Kneeling down to her level, I gently poked her forehead. "How about this? If you go to kindergarten today, I’ll make your favorite pancakes when we get back."

Her eyes lit up, hesitation flickering into something closer to hope. "Really? With extra honey?"

I smirked. "Extra honey, extra butter, and a super-secret ingredient that only big brothers know about."
A moment passed. Then, finally, she nodded. "Okay... but it better be extra tasty! 😋"

Grinning, I took her hand, and together, we stepped out into the morning light.

As usual, while strolling down the street, I exchanged friendly nods and greetings with our neighbors on the way. But today, something felt off—a strange vibe that made me sense we were being watched. I glanced back and spotted a girl standing at the street turn, her eyes fixed on us.

"Rumi, stand still !" I called out as I dashed toward her. In her startled attempt to run, she lost her footing and fell onto her back. That’s when I noticed something bizarre: she was clearly “going commando”—a bold fashion choice that left my mind reeling for a split second.

Shaking off the shock, I fixed her with a flushed stare. "Why are you following us? Are you part of some kidnapping group targeting my little sister?" I demanded.

She sprang up, indignation flashing across her face. "No, I'm not some jackass from a criminal organization!" she snapped.

I paused, taking in the sight before me—a striking girl with gem-like red eyes and short, fiery red hair, exuding an unexpected charm despite her unconventional style. I pressed on, "Then why were you following us?" (Inside, I couldn’t help but think that following someone required a certain level of daring—and even if following why one should go commando.)

In a soft, almost coy voice, she explained, "I wasn’t following you! I just moved into this neighborhood last night and got lost. When I saw you wearing the same outfit as the high school I'm about to attend, I assumed you were heading that way."

I sighed, a mix of relief and playful reproach in my tone. "You really should have asked for directions instead of, well, stalking us—baka!"

😳Her cheeks burned red as she stuttered an apology, clearly flustered. "I'm sorry!"

I decided to let it slide and said, "Come with me then." As we walked, my thoughts kept drifting back to her bold, unconventional style. Overwhelmed by curiosity,
I couldn’t help but ask, "Hey, can you tell me why you're going commando on your first day of high school?"

Ps. Ohh god why not let me end my life now !! 😭